


Liquor-Fogged

by daddychilton



Category: Halt and Catch Fire
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-04
Updated: 2015-03-04
Packaged: 2018-03-16 08:13:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 444
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3480869
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/daddychilton/pseuds/daddychilton





	Liquor-Fogged

It had been weeks since Gordon had slept in Joe’s bed, but he couldn’t get the smell out of his nose. It was a hard, musky smell—very primal and full of vigor. Gordon thought he would suffocate from the weight of the scent’s memory if he didn’t get another taste, another mouthful.

He stayed late at the office and pulled a flask from his jacket. He let the liquor slide down his throat until there wasn’t a drop left and his head was spinning.

He called a taxi and gave Joe’s address.

He pounded on the door, and a bedraggled Joe answered.

“I-“ Gordon started.

“What are you doing here? It’s 3 a.m.”

“The smell,” he said.

Joe was silent, confused.

Gordon pushed past him and threw his flask on the floor. He stumbled into the bedroom, Joe in tow, and collapsed on the bed. Joe stood over him, mouth agape. Gordon, mind liquor fogged, grabbed Joe by his collar and pulled him on top of him, kissing his mouth sloppily.

Joe didn’t shy away. Rather, he grabbed Gordon’s jaw in his big hands and roughly kissed him, giving Gordon a touch of teeth. Gordon’s beard was stripping Joe’s face raw, but he didn’t care, didn’t mind – he liked jagged edges.

Gordon’s entire being felt infused with that primal scent. It was pumping through his veins, settling in his lungs and liver and guts. He thought he’d never rid himself of it, as long as he lived. He wanted it to be the last thing he tasted on his tongue before he died. He wanted Joe to be his final thought, his final claim to a life well-lived.

The kisses became gentler, and Gordon pulled Joe into bed next to him, and settled his head against Joe’s throat. He could feel the heated pulse of his racing heart, and he wished they could stay like this.

Joe closed his eyes and kissed Gordon’s forehead. He liked the little man very much, even though he would never show it to anyone, not even Gordon. This time, though, a drunk Gordon was very easy to please, and Joe was grateful for the moment, saccharine though it was.

Soft snores sounded from beneath his chin, and he knew that Gordon was asleep. He didn’t know what would happen in the morning, only that the time they had spent together would never be talked about. It would remain only in Joe and Gordon’s archives.

And, finally comfortable with sleep for once in his life, Joe drifted off, but not before removing Gordon’s glasses. He put them on the nightstand. The clock read 3:08 a.m.


End file.
